Hoi Polloi
by Severe Cabbage
Summary: A family name is a terrible thing to keep up, but James Downey doesn't mind. At least, not until he gets caught up in a rather odd adventure involving a lanceconstable, a mysterious noble, and a failed inhumation... Chapter 5 now up!
1. Welcome to the Shades

Can you believe it? I'm writing something with actual CHAPTERS! I think the world is crumbling around me.

Anyway, tell me if you think this is a good idea or not, because I don't especially want to write something horrible all the while thinking it is absolutely splendid, because that's just embarrassing. And don't worry: NO MARY-SUES! There shall be no falling in love with canon characters while I am still breathing…

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No one is sure who the greatest assassin in the history of the Disc is. Some historians talk of the infamous Lord Azaxhcha, whose daring exploits were even more impressive than the sheer difficulty of pronouncing his name. Others will mention the cunning of Lady Alice Faitch, who, it is rumored, could cook up a poison so deadly that you would be dead as soon it touched your tongue. Lastly, there is Mr. Wesley Sullivan of 422 Donner Lane, who, although probably the most deadly assassin ever known, is simply considered far too boring for any sort of renown.

However, one person was very sure of who the best was. To James Rupert Downey, the greatest assassin in history was undoubtedly James Rupert Downey.

Currently, the greatest assassin in the world was not putting on a good show. Instead of leaping over rooftops with catlike grace, he was standing in the shadows of a small unnamed street somewhere in the Shades.

This, as every native Ankh-Morporker knows, is a really, really stupid thing to do. Even James, who was in fact regarded as being really, really stupid, was considering very quietly slipping away and then, when he was out of the Shades, running down the streets as fast as his legs could carry him.

This idea had grown on him as the night wore on. His patch of shadows, which had previously seemed to be a very nice large patch of shadows indeed, seemed to have shrunk until he could hardly move. Also, he was discovering that black, while very cool, did not blend in as such. It seemed to him that his clothes were giving off a beacon of pure, white light, visible for miles around. Sounds had also grown much louder than they had any right to be, and every quiet and panicked breath he took boomed like thunder in the narrow street.

James took another quick glance around and quietly sank down onto his haunches. He flinched when he saw moonlight glance off the knife in his hand, and quickly shoved it up his sleeve.

He was tempted to speak out loud to himself, but instead complained bitterly inside his head.

_Trust Father to give me this contract, _he thought darkly. _Why would anyone important live in the Shades, anyway? _

A scraping sound echoed through the darkened streets, and James twitched, looking around wildly.

_Oh Gods…what was that? WHO IS IT? _

Then a scream sounded from somewhere close by. James crammed his fist in his mouth and shrieked silently.

_I'm going to die. Right here. Whoever or WHATever that was is going to see me, and they're going to kill me very nastily in a way involving blunt instruments, and I'm going to die because they definitely won't know fisticuffs and my knives are only good if you don't know I'm there…and…and…Oh, GODS, I'm going to DIE in the SHADES! How humiliating…_

The scraping sound was a lot nearer now. In fact, it sounded as though whoever was making it was standing…right…in…front…of…him….

James looked up, fervently wishing that he could make himself invisible. Directly in front of his face were a pair of knees, and they were possibly the most terrifying things James had seen in his life.

His gaze traveled farther up, and he noticed that his future killer wore a breastplate and chain mail. The outfit looked familiar, actually, and James's terrified mind took a moment to wonder where he had seen it before.

Swallowing, James prepared to look the stranger in the face. It turned out he didn't need to gather his courage, though, because the face abruptly swung down to his eye level.

"Hello! Nice to meet you! Who are you? Why are you crying? Are you sad? I'm Casey! I--"

James jumped up and clapped a hand over the girl's mouth. "Be quiet!" he hissed. "Are you trying to kill us?"

Casey wriggled out of his grasp. "Don't worry," she said. "No one would kill me!"

"And why is that?" James asked, rolling his eyes.

"Because I'm with the Watch!"

"Oh, no…" James breathed. So that's where he had seen the outfit before…

He grabbed Casey by the arm.

"Where are we going? Is it fun?"

"Just follow me," James growled.

He really shouldn't be doing this. He had to finish the contract. He could get kicked out of the Guild.

But, he reflected, even that was preferable to being caught with a member of the City Watch in the Shades…which, in fact, was quite likely to happen, if he didn't get out of there very, very quickly.


	2. Without a hitch

Okay, let me make things clear. Many apologies to Big Cat, because you have a right to be confused. Originally, I _was _going to make James Downey's son. But then I changed my mind, because I love young vetinari and wanted him in here. So sorry. (also, if anyone knows Downey's actual first name, please tell me so that I can change it.)

Much to James's surprise, he had managed to get both he and Casey out of the Shades without being found. Now, they were standing in a small side road off of Short Street, and James was attempting to explain the finer points of life in the Big Wahooni to Casey.

"So…you're saying that where I was…it was _dangerous _to be there?"

James gently banged his head against a soot-stained retaining wall. "Yes, Casey. That is the point."

Casey looked puzzled. "But everyone was so nice there! Everyone I saw told me I was really pretty!"

"Oh, Gods!" James half-screamed. "Of course they did! They thought you were..." seeing Casey's inquisitive look, he trailed off.

"What?"

"Uh…you know…" he coughed uncomfortably. "Um. A…loose woman."

"A what?"

James stared at her disbelievingly. "How long have you lived in the city, Casey?" he asked slowly.

She tilted her head to the side, looking thoughtful. "What day is it?"

"The twenty-first."

"About…eight days, then. Or seven. I'm not really sure."

James slid farther down the wall until he landed on the grimy street with a thump. "Seven days?" he asked incredulously. "Are you _serious?_"

"Wha--"

"What were you doing in the _Shades? _Are you insane? Why couldn't you just ask someone about the city? ANYONE would tell you that only idiots walk through the shades. And now...now…"

James's eyes suddenly widened in horror. "…and now I'm _missing my bloody chance!_ Stay there! I have to go."

"Where?" Casey asked curiously.

"To finish my contract. And thanks to you, I might not be able to…"

James quickly gathered up the knives that had fallen from his sleeves when he jumped up, and glared at Casey. "You. STAY."

James fled, leaving Casey staring bemusedly at the vacated retaining wall. "Huh," she said out loud. "What sort of contract?" Then, after a few moments of thoughtful silence, she stood up. "I can't imagine why he'd think I'd stay here," she explained to no one in particular. "Ankh-Morpork is just too _interesting._"

With that, Casey left the street at a brisk pace, following James's path.

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As James neared his former hiding place, he could hear the sound of hooves clattering several streets away. He swore under his breath, and ran slightly faster.

Finally, he peeled into the cramped street just as the carriage rounded the corner. Grinning, he retreated into a doorway and was swallowed by shadow. As the carriage grew closer, he let his wrist knives slide into his hands. When the horse's hooves hit the ground in front of him, he turned and threw his left-hand knife, smoothly and perfectly. It found its target in the coachman's chest, and the man was dead before he could make a sound.

James quickly hopped into the driver's seat, nudging the body aside. He yanked the reins from the dead hands and urged the horse onwards. The carriage continued to move through the night, and the passenger had noticed nothing.

James sighed quietly and smiled, grateful that his plan had gone without a hitch. Well, there was that girl Casey, but she wasn't going to interfere with the next stage. When the carriage rounded the next corner, James would terminate his contract--along with the carriage's passenger.

Things were definitely coming up roses for James Downey.


	3. of death and Pointy Things

Another day, another dollar, and another chapter. Ho-hum. I promise the next one will have Vetinari in it. For now, be content with some Persons of Mystery.

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In a particularly unpleasant part of Ankh-Morpork known as the Shades, a small carriage rattled through the cobbled streets. It was a dark night, and at first glance, it appeared that there were two coachmen driving the horses. On closer inspection, one of these coachmen was very obviously dead. The young, burly man sitting next to the corpse did not seem unduly bothered by his companion's lifeless state; in fact, he was whistling a tune and had the dead man's hat pulled down jauntily over his eyes.

As soon as the carriage turned onto Sweetheart Lane, the young man stopped the horses, then twisted around and rapped on the side of the carriage.

"Miss Lamont?" he asked gruffly, pulling the hat farther down over his face.

"What is it, Jones? Why have we stopped?"

"Roadwork. I'm afraid we're going to be here for a while."

There was silence from inside the carriage for a moment. "You sound different, Jones," Miss Lamont said suspiciously.

James muttered a curse. _Of course I do, _he thought. _I sound like a noble. _

"Really, Miss Lamont? I din't notice," he slurred, trying not to sound like the Assassin he was. It seemed to work, because Miss Lamont only said "Do tell the workers to hurry up, Jones. I must arrive on time."

"A'right, Miss." James jumped down from his seat, hooking an arm around the body of the coachman. Careful not to let the man's feet drag on the ground, he hauled the corpse over to the side of the street. No one would notice a dead man in the Shades, unless they had someone to sell the corpse to.

James walked back over to the carriage, making sure to stomp his boots in a very un-Assassin-like way. "Well, Miss Lamont, they say it's gonna take a while. Maybe we should turn back and find an inn."

"Ridiculous!" There was the sound of flurrying skirts from inside the carriage. "I demand to talk to them. Open the door."

Downey grinned and shrugged, a knife sliding into his right hand. "Right away, Miss."

He reached for the handle, and stopped in mid-turn. Something pointy was pressing into his neck.

"Turn around," a voice said softly. "I don't want to hurt you."

Downey knew the real meaning of those words: "I have a large pointy weapon and I am aiming it at your head. Do as I say." He turned around.

Behind him, the owner of said pointy weapon lowered his crossbow and smiled dangerously. "Thank you for obliging, Mr. Downey. Now, please drop the knife."

The weapon clattered onto the cobblestones. "Who are you?" Downey demanded, glaring at the thin figure in front of him.

"My friends and I have been hired to protect Miss Lamont. That is all you need to know about us, Mr. Downey." Seeing the alarmed look on James's face, he continued "Yes, I know your name."

"Great," James muttered in a rare display of sarcasm. "Good for you."

"I'm afraid we're going to have to take you and your friend back to my employer. He will decide--"

James interrupted him. "My friend?"

The man snapped his fingers, and two shadows detached themselves from the rest. With them was the easily identifiable figure of Casey.

"Casey!" James growled. "You followed me?"

"Well, yes, of course. I wanted to see what you were doing. It's very rude to just leave people in alleyways and expect them to stay there, you know. So naturally I followed you. Say, who are these people? Are they your friends? They're wearing black, too. Are you all part of some--"

"Oh, Gods, not again. I thought I told you to gag her!"

"We tried, but she bit us," said Mysterious Figure number two. His accomplice nodded in agreement.

"--secret society?" Casey continued. "Because that would be very interesting. Do you think maybe I could join?"

"Casey?" 

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

Much to James's relief, Casey closed her mouth, looking hurt.

"_As I was saying, _Mr. Downey, we are taking you to our employer. Please, mind your manners. He is not a forgiving man."

James nodded grudgingly, wondering if the small dagger he had concealed in his boot would be enough to overpower three men who all seemed to move like cats. It was highly unlikely, he decided.

The man in front of him took his arm. "Anything to say, Mr. Downey?"

"Yeah," said Downey. "You're a scag."

"So be it," the man said, and set off into the night.

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From inside the abandoned carriage, Miss Lamont pounded on the door. "Hello? Jones? Where are we?"

It would be some time before anyone came back to let her out.


	4. Don't mess with routine

Well, after a few weeks of resolutely ignoring this story, I got bore--er, inspired. So here's the next chapter. And if the end of this chapter's a bit weird, blame it on the calming yet rather scary influence of my Dresden Dolls CD.

DISCLAIMER: I-ay o-day ot-nay wn-oay his-tay. Duh.

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At six thirty in the morning, only three people could be found in the dining hall of the Assassin's Guild. Two of them had insomnia, and could be easily distinguished by the shadows under their eyes and a tendency to fall face-first into their breakfasts.

The other student was simply there because breakfast was served at six, and he made it a habit to always be on time. Certainly he wasn't there for the food, which featured that grand commodity, the genuine Ankh-Morpork sausage, complete with funny tubes and green flecks.

Havelock Vetinari turned a page in the book in front of him, and took a bite of slightly soggy toast. As he chewed thoughtfully, a few crumbs skittered across the page and fell into the binding. Havelock sighed in irritation, but continued to read.

He was enjoying the peaceful silence in the hall. He knew it would end in roughly forty-five seconds, as soon as James Downey and co. arrived.

Any minute now….

Ten, nine, eight….

Another page turned.

Five, four, three…

…two, one.

Right now.

Right this moment.

Where were they?

Havelock looked up in confusion at the empty seats across from him. This couldn't be right. He leaned back and tapped the insomniac behind him on the shoulder.

"What?" the boy inquired blearily.

"Do you know what time it is?"

"Um…" the boy slowly produced a watch. "Six thirty."

"Oh." Havelock frowned. "Thank you."

"Sure…" the boy mumbled, before his head dropped down onto the oaken tabletop again.

Havelock looked around the hall again. Maybe they were just taking a long time to get their breakfast?

No, nobody there.

Wherever they were, they had better have a good reason for interrupting his routine, Havelock decided. This simply wasn't acceptable.

He stood up, book under his arm.

He couldn't believe he was actually going to go look for _Downey._

Ludo rapped on Dr. Follet's door for the third time. Hearing no response, he turned to the boys standing behind him. "No luck, " he said, scowling. "We'll try again later."

Just then, the door creaked open. "What is it, boys?" came the voice of Follet.

Ludo strode up to the head of the Guild, looking ferocious. "We want to know where Downey is," he said. "Is he dead or what?"

Dr. Follet looked curiously at the crowd outside of his door. "Why, whatever do you mean?" he asked curiously. "Is he gone?"

"Yes! He wasn't here last night and he didn't show up to go to breakfast this morning! Where is he?"

"I certainly don't know! He shouldn't have gone anywhere."

"You mean he wasn't out on a contract?"

"No, not at all."

"But he said--"

Dr. Follet sighed. "Wherever he is, I'm sure he willl be back promptly. Now please, leave me in peace!" He slammed the door in Ludo's face.

"Ludo?..." one of the boys asked hesitantly.

"Yeah?"

"Downey was on a contract, wasn't he?"

"Showed it to us and everything," another boy added helpfully.

"I know," Ludo muttered. "It's weird."

"Do you think Folly was lying to us?"

Ludo shrugged and started for the stairs. "He could have been, I suppose. Don't know why he would, though."

"Hey!" the first boy said suddenly. "Maybe it was a fake contract!"

Everyone looked aghast at this. An Assassin without a contract was no better than some common _murderer._

"But Downey wouldn't do that, right, Ludo? Someone else must have given it to him!"

"I don't know," Ludo said. Then, in a lower voice, "…but I'm going to find out."

Havelock, from his position under the stairs, rolled his eyes. Oh, the drama. Did Ludo, often regarded as the second most idiotic student in the guild (first place being reserved for Downey, of course) really think he could find out something about Downey's disappearance? How fantastically unlikely.

Not that Havelock was biased, or anything.

Of, course, he could offer to help him, since they were, in theory, on the same side. But when Vetinari actually thought of speaking to Ludo for any length of time, the idea of leaving Downey to die somewhere sounded really amazingly appealing.

He didn't know why he wanted to find the idiot in the first place, actually. Except, of course, for the very rude interruption of his routine. Simply unacceptable.

But there was no way he was helping Ludo. His routine could go hang.

But…it was his routine.

Routines were important, right? He couldn't just change his for any old thing. That would be silly.

Oh, who cared about Downey, anyway? Maybe Ludo really would find him. It could happen. It wasn't likely, but it could happen.

Just like flying pigs could happen.

Havelock spent a few more seconds contemplating forgetting the whole thing versus restoring his routine, and didn't like the odds. It seemed that he would end up working with Ludo, after all. Unless of course, the boy laughed in his face and completely ignored him, which he actually rather hoped would be the outcome. At least then he could feel no obligation at all.

Havelock decided he would talk to Ludo later in the day, so he had ample time to persuade himself out of his idiotic plan.

He absolutely refused to listen to the little voice in his head. The one that, just a second ago, had wondered, _"is your routine really the only reason you want Downey back?"_

He was very definitely not going to listen to that voice.

Hmmm….the suspense! What will happen next? Will Ludo listen to Havelock? Will Downey and Casey escape? Will I really turn this into a slash story? How do my family's action affect the Chesapeake Bay? (oh, wait, I'm supposed to answer that one. My bad.)

Find out next week/ whenever I feel like updating!

Sincerely,

Mad


	5. the Very Nearly great escape

As you can see, the next chapter of Hoi Polloi is _finally _up. And believe me, you don't have to tell me I'm a slacker…I know I am.

Many great, enormous thanks to my beta, TheMidgetBee!

Let the Games BEGIN!!!! diabolical laughter!

(MORE EXCLAMATION MARKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

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James Downey stared fixedly at the floorboards, so intently that it seemed his gaze would dissolve a hole in the weathered boards. The flooring had, in reality, ceased to be interesting after roughly five-twelfths of a second(1), but anything was better than listening to Casey try to cheer him up.

"You know…it really, truly could have been worse." Casey ventured, leaving her perch on one of the two chairs to sit down next to Downey. "I mean, we're alive and have all our limbs attached, right? After all, we could have died."

Actually, the two had been remarkably lucky, considering that they had just been kidnapped by people who were, in all likelihood, several thousand times more dangerous than any Assassin in existence. However, instead of killing James and Casey on the spot, their kidnappers seemed more intent on bringing the captives to their current location…wherever that was.

"I know we could have died," James muttered, still staring glumly at the floor and vaguely entertaining the idea of banging his head repeatedly against it. "That's the problem," he continued. After gazing for several more seconds at the floor, he decided that being knocked unconscious wouldn't help him particularly.

Casey stared at him, widening her brown eyes until it seemed they would drop right out of her eye sockets. "Being alive is a _problem?_"

"Yes!" James snapped, looking balefully at the floor. "If an Assassin fails to complete his contract, he ought to die!"

"Wow…you're mad, aren't you?" Casey said, sounding slightly impressed.

"I'm not mad…it's just the honorable thing to do."

"How's that?" Casey asked.

"Er…it just is, alright?"

Casey sighed deeply, but didn't press the subject any further. Instead, she lifted herself off the floor and went over to the one window in the room.

Neither Casey nor James had any idea where they were; the men responsible for their capture had blindfolded them before leading the two to their current prison. Casey, the only one of the two who had debated their location at all, thought they might have been brought to an old inn. They were in what appeared to be a sparsely-furnished bedroom, and if she looked out the window, she could see that the building had at least two floors.

Despite Downey's impermeable air of gloom, Casey was actually quite at home in their prison; the room's complete and utter lack of a personality reminded her favorably of her lodgings at the Watch House. The two rooms even shared the same wallpaper in a shade of slightly revolting yellow.

James on the other hand was repulsed by their surroundings, since he had never really been anywhere not populated by the idle rich. In fact, he had never even seen the Shades until last night's excursion.

"James?" Casey asked, her voice considering.

"Yes?" Downey replied darkly.

"Do you think they're going to feed us?"

"How would I know?" James asked irritably, turning his gaze from the floor at long last in order to scowl at Casey. His effort was wasted though, since she was still staring out the window.

"I guess it was more of a rhetorical question," she said distantly. "Say, do you think I could fit through this window?"

"You could try," James said dourly, not even looking at the window in question.

"You know, I might," Casey said with a bit more cheer in her voice. "Of course, I'd need to break the glass first." She tapped her fingers on the glass of the window, which was about half a foot across. Casey was on the skinny side, but if she was going to fit through the window, it might be necessary for her to amputate her arms first.

"That you might," Downey said flatly.

"Yes, but what with?" Casey asked, glancing around the room in search of something heavy.

"Willpower?" James suggested, rolling his eyes.

"Or I could just use your _head,_" Casey muttered. "It's certainly big enough." With a glare at James, she stomped over to one of the wooden chairs in the corner of the room and, much to Downey's alarm, broke one of its legs off with surprising ease.

"That should do it," Casey remarked brightly. Returning to the window, she proceeded to bludgeon the pane until cracks started to spiderweb through the warped glass.

Downey scowled at her. "Is this really necessary? You're going to get glass all over me."

"Well, move away from the window, then. You're sitting right by it." Casey continued her onslaught on the unfortunate pane of glass, and after a few more strikes of the impromptu club, the window shattered completely. Most of the shards flew outside the room, but a smattering of sharp little glass bits landed inside. To Casey's amusement, quite a bit of the broken glass landed in Downey's hair.

"Look, James, you were right. It did get all over you," Casey said, smirking slightly.

"Feel free to leave anytime," Downey said, tilting his head downward and brushing glass out of his hair.

"Thanks for reminding me," Casey said brightly. "Now, the roof of that next building is fairly close, so I think I'll just jump over there, it shouldn't be too hard. And from then on, I can make my way back to the Yard and tell everyone what's going on."

"That's lovely," James muttered. "Have fun."

"Yes, who knows, I might even try to get you out of here."

James sighed and yawned, then resumed staring at the floor. After roughly five seconds, he heard Casey say, "Hmmm."

"Hmmm?" James asked sharply. "What do you mean by that?" 

"Oh…this is just a bit harder than it looked."

"It's a small window."

"Indeed."

Casey so far had managed to get her head, neck, and one of her shoulders through the window. It seemed unlikely that she could go much further before dislocating something important.

"You know…this is, in fact, a very small window."

She twisted, attempting to bring her other shoulder through. "Tiny, you could even say," she continued. "Ow."

"Casey…"

"Yeah?"

"You do realize there's no possible chance that you are going to fit through that window?" James asked.

Casey sighed. "You're right," she said mournfully, extracting herself from the gap. "But it was worth a try." Grimacing, she rubbed her right shoulder. "Not something I'd like to try again, though. You know, I don't see why they even bothered putting a window in the room if it's not big enough to at least--"

"Quiet," James said suddenly, putting a manicured finger to his lips. "I think someone's coming up the stairs."

"Food?" Casey whispered hopefully. Downey shrugged.

As the heavy tread of their visitor approached the door, Downey reached into his boot and grinned, two actions not generally associated with one another. However, he had reason to be happy. While their captors had discovered most of James' concealed weapons, including even his extra dagger, they had overlooked his extra, _extra _dagger. Apparently, the depths of Downey's left sock was a place no one could be made to investigate.

So, as the door slowly opened, Downey drew his extra, extra dagger out of his boot and waited for the fun to start.

(1)--arbitrary fractions are entertaining. Believe it.

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Well, folks, thus ends chapter five. Next chapter: who is Downey's mysterious captor? A king? An Enchanter? Snapcase in drag?

Soon, all will be revealed.

Cabbage


	6. Partners!

So, my loves…where did we leave off? I believe it's about time for another chapter with Vetinari in it, don't you? I apologize for the (very) prolonged absence, but I have a whole list of excuses I'd be glad to show you if you really want to know. Remember to REVIEW, because a reviewed Cabbage is a happy Cabbage. This chapter is a bit longer than the others methinks, so think of it as a reward for waiting all this time.

In this chapter: Vetinari must talk to Ludo, but it's more difficult than you'd think. Also, a bit of insight into the rivalry between Vetinari and Downey.

As for the footnotes in here, they don't really have anything to do with the story. They're just my geeky little musings on whatever I happened to be thinking of at that moment. 

Disclaimer: If I was Terry Pratchett, I'd be much funnier. Not to mention manlier.

After three hours spent in deep thought, Vetinari was forced to admit that talking to Ludo was going to be rather more difficult than he had anticipated. For one thing, the daily actions of Havelock and Ludo were so vastly different that the only times their respective worlds overlapped were at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Breakfast had already come and gone, and at the moment Havelock was heading down the richly-paneled hall that led to the cafeteria. As he walked, his mind raced to find an acceptable manner of talking to one the boys who had made it their personal mission to torment him for nearly a decade. 

Havelock found it greatly ironic that the person who was causing him such mental torment was Ludo, known for being one of the most idiotic students currently in attendance at the Guild.

The young man was so deeply embroiled in his inner conflicts that he hardly noticed the oppressive crush of people racing to lunch. Instead of shooting his usual glare at the obnoxious boys whose hurried swagger threatened to smash him against the wall, he simply sidestepped them and continued on his way. Those who attempted to make eye contact with him looked away very quickly and sped up, because it was obvious that Havelock would not be pleased with anyone who interrupted his current train of thought. Although Downey and his friends may have teased the young Assassin, the rest of the Guild could recognize danger when it walked among them.

Lost in thought, Havelock reflected on the difficulty that would certainly be involved when he tried to engage Ludo in conversation. Apart from the fact that the two students rarely ever saw each other, there were a few other small problems, such as the burning enmity that had flourished between Havelock and Downey's group since the boys were both eleven. There was no particular reason for this hatred, but Downey was big and rich and popular and Vetinari was thin and clever and rather creepy. Also, he wouldn't even kill people. He was not much of an Assassin, in Downey's opinion, no matter how good he was at concealment and such.

So, in the way of young boys everywhere, the two had developed a vicious rivalry that still flourished, even at the greater but not particularly wiser age of seventeen. However, Havelock had had the sense not to invest too much into this hostility. There were much more important things to do than defend one's honor after being called "Dog-Botherer." This was not to say that he didn't hate Downey and his friends. He just went about it in a thoroughly sensible, commendable manner. 

Downey, on the other hand, had absolutely no problem with devoting time and energy towards his vendetta with Vetinari. Although even he was not stupid enough to try and beat Vetinari up, since they went to a school for _Assassins, _after all, he did his best to aggravate his rival. Unfortunately, Vetinari often refused to even pay attention to his insults, leaving Downey even more furious with him than before. Instead of Havelock's lack of interest deterring him from the rivalry, it simply caused Downey to double his efforts to extract actual outrage from the boy.

Ludo, being Downey's self-proclaimed best friend, had naturally adopted this rivalry as his own. In fact, he was the one who made up the most creative and inventively rhymed insults, and he was often better at hating Vetinari than Downey was himself.

Needless to say, Ludo was going to be difficult to talk to. In fact, Ludo was going to be diffuclt to even get within speaking distance of, judging by the circle of dim-witted friends that surrounded him seemingly at all times. 

Also, there was the fact that Havelock really had no viable reason to go off looking for Downey. If Vetinari himself couldn't understand his own actions, what chance was there that Ludo would even listen to him? However, Havelock decided that that was an issue he would prefer to think of later, once he had enlisted Ludo's help. 

Havelock had reasoned with himself in this way all through his classes. In fact, his distant attitude had incited the anger of a teacher or two. Unfortunately, he had not yet managed to convince himself that looking for Downey was a bad idea. It was not just the interruption of his routine that plagued him now; he could live with that. It was the simple fact that Downey had gone out to complete a contract that didn't exist. Who in Ankh-Morpork could possibly want to lure the idiot out for any purpose? As Assassins went, Downey was relatively harmless. At least, he had never offended anyone important to Vetinari's knowledge. Havelock could not stand the thought of such a strange problem going unsolved in his city. It was an affront to someone who prided himself on knowing the way Ankh-Morpork and its dubious citizenry functioned.

Havelock sighed to himself, although it was not noticeable to the students around him. It would not be wise to sigh loudly, since that might be interpreted as a sign of weakness. He had arrived at the doors of the cafeteria, which were currently flung open to allow the students to swarm through them. He followed the crowd into the giant, airy room, and quickly spotted Ludo sitting with his companions at a table situated towards the back. Before he went to confront them, Havleock decided to get his lunch. It would be no use to talk to Ludo on an empty stomach. 

He went to the back of the line, which was thankfully short at the moment. The unfortunate smell of cabbage and something as-of-yet unidentifiable wafted towards his face, and he grimaced along with everyone else in the line. 

As he stood there, he took the opportunity to observe Ludo in his natural habitat, so to speak. The young man was currently speaking to his friends, and juding by his emphatic gesturing, he was regaling them with the tale of how he had knocked some unfortunate student's head in. It seemed as though Ludo had temporarily assumed Downey's role in their circle, since he was sitting in the seat customarily reserved for his best friend. 

Obviously, neither Ludo or his friends would welcome Havelock with open arms.

Vetininari grabbed his now-full lunch tray and headed towards a mostly-empty table. He would eat the hypothetically edible portions of his lunch first, then talk to Ludo. Luckily, his table was situated next to that of his target's (as Havelock was beginning to think of him). 

Like any Assassin worth his salt, Vetinari began to calculate the easiest and most effective way to go about his mission. Never mind that he was not planning to kill anyone; this assignment might prove to be just as difficult.

Considering the age and intelligence of his target, the most obvious way to engage Ludo in conversation was through a direct approach. Subterfuge would be quite pointless, given that they were occupying a crowded lunchroom. As Havelock reluctantly attempted to eat his nourishing meal of boiled cabbage, he deliberated how to avoid the rest of Downey's friends, since they were currently surrounding the target. A simple lack of eye contact would be best, he decided, standing up and tossing his mostly-untouched luch into the garbage pail. Also, it might be best to do away with his own smug expression, much as this pained him.

Havelock swallowed his pride and wiped his face of all expression. He then walked over to Ludo's table, ignoring the strange glances he received from his fellow Assassins-in-training. 

Stopping at Ludo's chair, he took a deep breath and reluctantly met his enemy's bemused eyes. 

"Ah, Ludorum… might I talk to you for a moment?" he asked stiffly, resisting the urge to fade into the shadows and flee as any sensible person would.

"Dog-Botherer?" Ludo asked, looking at him as strangely as if the Vetinari had suddenly burst into song. "What do you want?"

"If we might step into the hall for a moment, Ludo--" Havelock said in a strained voice.

"Yeah, whatever," Ludo said reluctantly. He stood up, shooting a glare at the thin boy standing stiffly next to him. "But make it short, I'm not done eating."

"Certainly. I would hate to detain you from your cabbage, Ludorum."

Ludo looked at him angrily, wondering if that sentence had somehow concealed an insult to his person. Seeing no hint of amusement on Havelock's face, he gave up and followed the other boy into the hall leading to the dormitories. 

"What is it, Vetinari?" he demanded, scowling fiercely at Havelock. "What possible reason could you have to talk to me?"

"A rather obvious one, Ludorum," Havelock said coolly. "Surely you must have noticed the absence of Downey, have you not?"

Ludo raised his eyebrows. "Well, yeah. Everyone has, idiot."

Chuckling slightly at the irony of being called an idiot by Ludo, Havleock continued. "You must surely find this business of a false contract suspicious, then."

"How did you know about the false contract?" Ludo asked quickly. Havleock winced internally, irritated at himself for making such an elementary mistake. "I asked Follet about it," he said smoothly, concealing all outward hesitation.

"Huh," Ludo said. "I guess he might have told you…"

Vetinari spared a moment for a silent celebration of Ludo's stupidity. "Yes," he said. "Anyway, I must confess that I have been distracted by this puzzling disappearance. As Downey's best friend, I am sure that you must be irked by it as well."

"Well, yes. But why do you care, Dog-Botherer? Are you in love with Downey or something? Maybe you're a pervert as well as a scag?" (A/N: scag has to be my absolute favorite word… I guess Ludo must have picked the habit up from Downey!) 

Havelock grimaced, and a rarely-observed expression of the utmost horror briefly clouded his eyes. "That is quite far from the truth, Ludorum. In fact, there may be nothing farther."

"Sure," Ludo said, a knowing smirk plastered onto his face, "Whatever, Dog-Botherer. What's your point anyway?"

"Ah, thank you for reminding me." Havelock breathed in deeply, idly wondering if he was going to regret these moments for the rest of his life. "I am proposing that you and I endeavor to solve the mystery of Downey's disappearance. I do not wish to do this out of any particular love of Downey, mind you. I simply desire to know who would want to lure a trainee Assassin out of the Guild, and this has nothing to do with my and Downey's…eh…relationship."

Ludo, still processing all the words that had just viciously attacked his mind, seized on one of the things he recognized. "So you do have a relationship! I didn't even know James was on the turn…"

Havelock sighed, preparing to walk away. Ludo continued to ramble. "…and why would he even touch you, Dog-Botherer? You're creepy and he hates you and all that…"

Ludo abruptly stopped speaking, his slow-moving train of thought apparently reaching the station. "Wait a moment, you say you want us to work together?"

"That is not the main point of my request, but yes, that would be the most prudent route."

"Urgh," Ludo said in disgust, for once summing up Havelock's feelings perfectly.

"Do remember, our main goal would be catching Downey's captors, not spending time with each other." At the phrase "spending time with each other," Vetinari's eye twitched slightly, but he soon regained composure.

"Yeah, but…urgh. I hate you, Vetinari."

"I assure you, I share your feelings. However, you out of all of Downey's friends seem to know him the best. If I was to attempt to find Downey, I would most surely need you."

"Can't I just find Downey without you, if I know that much?"

"With all due respect, Ludorum, you have neither the intelligence or the endurance to complete this sort of endeavor. I, on the other hand, possess a great deal of working knowledge on the city and the affairs that influence it. I also am an expert in concealment and subterfuge, which I happen to recall are your weakest areas."

Ludo appeared to be resisting some sort of impulse, as his face was turning red and his teeth grinding together quite ferociously. However, he restrained himself, and after a moment responded calmly.

"Yeah, that's true, but how would we ever get along? I did mention that I hate you, right?"

"Well, we have so far managed to converse without killing each other. It's a start, to be sure, and I for one am a veritable master of self-restraint."

Ludo muttered something under his breath. Havelock was fairly sure that it involved the word "faggot" at great use. 

"Are you planning on burning wood, Ludorum?" Havelock asked dryly. (1) 

"Huh?" the other boy asked, utterly confused.

"Think nothing of it." Vetinari turned around as grandly as he could manage in the Guild uniform. "Shall we proceed back to the dining hall and avail ourselves of some delectable cabbage?"

Confronted with too many words, Ludo brushed past Vetinari, saying only, "I'll try to work with you, Dog-Botherer. But talk too much, and I'll break your legs."

"Lovely," Vetinari said. "I'll meet you in front of your dormitory at six tomorrow. I'm sure this shall be the start of a rewarding partnership."

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(1) Hahaha. Get it? Get it? Like a faggot of wood? Oh, teh hilarity of it all. is forcibly restrained from punning further

Finally! This chapter took aeons to write, but I love writing for Vetinari and Ludo so it was worth it. Again, sorry for the ages of absence, but further chapters have a 74 chance of being updated regularly, with an increase of 7.3 if my teachers do not assign any projects in the near future. (I've been reading too much Death Note, and it seems L has worn off on me… he he.)

Ludo is quite hilarious, is he not? Hopefully he will not start trying to hook Vetinari and Downey up, although that would be a fun chapter…manic laughter

NEXT CHAPTER: Casey and Downey are in for an unpleasant surprise, and we learn just why Casey is floating around in a time when no females are allowed in the Watch! (and you all thought I was just destroying the precious canon, dintcha?) 

THANKS TO ALL MY GORGEOUSLY AWESOME REVIEWERS. I LOVE YOU LIKE SALT!


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